


Limbs All Akimbo

by ForevermoreNevermore



Series: Flock [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angel Stiles, BAMF Stiles, Established Relationship, M/M, Protective Derek, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-05-18
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForevermoreNevermore/pseuds/ForevermoreNevermore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vacation, he said.</p><p>It'll be fun, he said.</p><p>Well then, Derek's had it up to there with fun. As for feathers...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Limbs All Akimbo

**Author's Note:**

> So... feathers. Stiles and feathers. Together. That's really all I can say because that thought alone makes me giggle. This is probably a fragmented mess, it was just one of those lightening ideas that you have to write. However I might make it into a bunch of little ficlets that follow the adventures of Angel!Stiles and his long-suffering boyfriend. Either way, I really hope you enjoy this. :)

_Let's go on a vacation, Derek. Two hours away, Derek. It'll be fine, Derek._ God, he'd never been so acerbic in his own mind before. If they weren't dating, Derek might've just strangled Stiles, might still strangle him. 

Should've know there'd be a pack. There's always a _fucking_ pack. Not so many trees, though, nothing for Stiles to get thrown against except good, old fashioned concrete. Bricks. Derek almost gave a pity wince just thinking about it. 

The alpha snarls, stepping forward and separating himself from his pack of fucking twelve. Twelve. Against an alpha and his mate. His human mate, pardon the mistake. 

"Hey, this outnumbering thing isn't going to work very well. Maybe if you could just come at us one at a time, that'd be nice?" And of course, it's the sarcastic, wise-ass mate who can't keep his mouth shut to save his life. Three of the betas begin to crowd in Stiles' general direction and he puts his hands up in the general symbol 'I come in peace'. "Guess counting isn't your strong suit, huh?" They don't get the hint so Derek steps in with a snarl, eyes flashing enough that they falter a bit and step back in line. 

"Shut up, Stiles." Derek hisses at him, because if anyone's going to hurt Stiles its going to be him.

"I think we can take them." Stiles whispers back with a thumb up. The weight of the sarcasm settles thickly like syrup. 

"Is that your pack?" The other alpha finally speaks, voice just one restrained stitch away from laughter. He takes one strong whiff at the air, then really does start laughing. "That's your fucking _mate_?" Derek feels something snap down the line of his spine.

"At least I have a mate." 

The alpha doesn't even look offended. Just continues to laugh his stupid little barking laugh. "Hardly." 

Derek very nearly crosses the distance and snaps the thing's neck, but he holds back. He hears Stiles behind him, "better then a hand" and has to fight off the smirk.

The alpha's head jerks up, red eyes narrowing at Stiles. "You really think you're in a position to talk? Maybe we'll put your in place after we snap your alpha in half."  

"Look," Derek barks, stepping visibly in between the pack and Stiles, "we don't want a fight. We'll get out of your town and leave it at that." The air was thick for a few moments before the alpha's face split in some wicked grin.

"This isn't going to be a fight. It's going to be a massacre." And the thirteen wolves charge in a snarling, raving heap. 

Derek's muscles all contract down at once just a split second before he sees a blur of red hoodie and _Stiles_ is pushing him out of the way. 

"Stil-"

" _STOP!_ " The air crackles with the sharp tang of ozone and something light buffets across Derek's face. The wolves have indeed _stopped ___, frozen in place, with faces that were probably mirroring Derek's own. With a huff, Stiles flung his arms to his right with a jerk and like the pack was on a string they all collided right with the brick wall. They fell in a heap, unconscious.

Great calico wings fluttered proudly in the air for a moment before Derek had a chance to actually attempt not to faint and ask, kindly, what the fuck.

"What the fuck?" It startles Stiles enough that he jumps, swinging around fast enough that the wings - _fucking wings ___\- catch Derek upside the head and knock him onto the ground.

"Oh! Oh shit, sorry Derek. I haven't had them out for so long that I kind of just forgot I need good depth perception with them." Derek hardly registers the hands touching at his temples and helping him up. Stiles is close, eyes bright in the street lights. "That's why I keep them up most of the time. I'm shit at judging distances. Why do you think I'm not first line at Lacrosse? Well, it could be I'm a bean pole but-" 

Derek has still hardly registering the buzz in his ears as Stiles' talking, so he gently touches a hand to the one rubbing absently at his temple. Eventually, Stiles peters off and acknowledges that mighty absent look on Derek's face. His lips purse and he stitches together his eyebrows. 

"You okay?" Derek pops his jaw as he contemplates how to ask, kindly, what's going on. How to eloquently inquire as to the white/tan/black feathery behemoths fluttering absently around them. Why are they making a cocoon? How did you knock those werewolves into a wall?  

"The hell...?" Stiles' worry changes to that wide grin and he stands, pulling Derek up by the collar of his shirt.  

"Quite the opposite, actually." Stiles beams and taps a finger at Derek's chest. "I'm an angel." 

Derek blinks, and makes a promise with himself that he will not pop a blood vessel. "Angel?" 

"Grade A, certifiable." 

"Angel..." Derek gestures vaguely to his shoulder and Stiles rolls his eyes. It's a familiar gesture, but the fact that his wings practically roll with him is something new all together. 

"I'm not going to be perching on your shoulder, no matter how well-toned it may be." Stiles waggles his head. 

"So the wolves-" Once again without words, Derek waggles his fingers at the unconscious doggy pile in the alley. Stiles straightened and beamed with pride, feathers arching and coming closer to his body. 

"All me, big boy." Derek punched him in the arm. 

"All this time you could do that...?"  

"You know once upon a time you were gentle with me." Stiles ignores the previous statement and rubs at his arm, pouting convincingly.  

"That was before I knew you could take it, you little shit." Derek's not really angry, but this could've been helpful. 

"I can still feel pain." Stiles shoots back, sniffing haughtily and lightly hitting Derek on the arm with a wing. The werewolf would freak out, but as soon as the sporadic feathers touch his arm he feels... happy. "I didn't tell you because I wasn't supposed to tell anyone. I was just supposed to- well, be." Stiles shrugs, but Derek had tuned him out already. He's got a hand hovering just beside a wing, arching a brow at Stiles in leu of asking for permission. It's a moment before Stiles catches on, but when he does he gives a light laugh and that crooked little grin that had first managed to worm its way into Derek's heart. The wing jerks that last couple of inches to Derek's hand, and he lets out an unexpected bark when they brush against his hands. 

It's peculiar, the feel of a solid that runs over his hands like a liquid. It should've churned his stomach, but it didn't. Derek supposes that at this point what 'should've' could be thrown out the window. The individual feathers rustle in a non-existent wind as Derek winds a hand through them. He hums, and they shudder. He chances a glance up at Stiles to see the same content expression his slightly more graceful limbs had demonstrated.  

A curious thought hit like lightening at the back of Derek's head and he grabs the impulse and runs with it. He grabs Stiles by the front of his sweatshirt, and pulls him into a languid kiss. The results are instantaneous, the wings going akimbo and flapping awkwardly. They whipped up a small breeze and Derek couldn't keep the smile from unfolding into the kiss. The wings were just another limb for Stiles to gesticulate with, and Derek wouldn't have it any other way. 

So his boyfriend was an angel? Stiles' was a werewolf. Derek supposed things just evened out like that.  


End file.
